


Sugar Magnolia

by blackkat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Environmentalism, Family Fluff, Humor, Kakashi as the City Slicker, Kurama as the Grumpy Hippie, M/M, Sabotage, at least on the part of the bijuu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Kakashi gets voluntold to drive Naruto out into the middle of nowhere so he can spend the summer with his uncle. His very grumpy, unfairly attractive uncle. Who is probably an environmental terrorist.Kakashi is not prepared for this at all.





	Sugar Magnolia

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Grateful Dead song by the same name, because what else would I use?

“Oh god, _finally_ ,” Naruto says, throwing open the car door. “I swear you drive like a blind old man.”

Kakashi doesn’t tell him that it’s because he’s terrified of what Kushina would do to him if he put so much as a dent in the car while Naruto was with him. “You don’t seem heartbroken about being banished to the countryside for the summer,” he says dryly, following Naruto out. It smells…green. Grassy. Kakashi misses the city.

Naruto scoffs loudly, already head and shoulders into the trunk as he digs out his duffle bag and backpack. “Are you kidding? Mom and Dad are going on _another_ honeymoon. If I didn’t to stay with my uncle, I’d have to go with them.”

 Fair, Kakashi thinks. Minato and Kushina are a horrifyingly gooey couple at the best of times, or maybe that should be the _worst_ of times. If given the opportunity, they’ll coo over each other for hours, and Kakashi personally would rather fling himself headfirst out a tenth-story window that be subjected to it. He hadn’t thought Naruto felt the same, though.

“Kushina's never introduced me to her brother,” he says, debates it for half a second, and then sets his sunglasses on top of his head. It feels like there's somehow far more sun here than there ever is in Konoha, even though logic says glass and asphalt should make the city brighter. A little gingerly, he steps into the long grass to pick up his own bag from where Naruto dropped it, and pointedly doesn’t move to help when Naruto heaves his own bags up. He’s not a pack animal, and Kushina already made him carry them down to the car while she lectured Naruto on the best way to get into trouble. Or something; Kakashi is assuming it wasn’t manners, given the source.

Naruto makes a distracted sound of agreement, half a moment before he surfaces with a wooden box that has a bow on top of it. “Yeah,” he says cheerfully. “He hates Konoha, so he doesn’t make it to the city very often. I think the last time he was there for more than a few hours was when I was born.”

Fifteen years? That’s…an extensive amount of time to avoid an innocent city. Especially when the alternative is _this_. Kakashi tries not to wrinkle his nose too obviously, but they drove almost an hour out of the closest town, through a forest that probably houses at least a few eldritch abominations just to get…here. The middle of nowhere, though when Kakashi _used_ to think of that phrase, he thought of wide-open plains and lots of space. Not megalithic trees and brief breaks to let the sun in.

The farm Kushina's brother owns is at least a little more open, set far back from the road and in what’s probably a meadow. There's a long gravel path up to the cabin sitting halfway up the hill, and behind the small structure the hill keeps going, rising into a mountain covered with more massive trees.

Kakashi wonders if it’s normal to feel like an ant under a descending boot. Surely no one actually _likes_ living out here.

Naruto, at least, doesn’t seem to have noticed, though that doesn’t really mean much. He’s cheerfully hoisting his bags up, practically vibrating with enthusiasm for their inevitable trek up to the ramshackle hut clinging to the slope. “He’s the _best_ uncle,” he says. “Mom tries to come out to see him every year, but we missed last summer ‘cause they were fighting.”

For that Kakashi gives him a blink, long and slow and bewildered. People don’t _fight_ with Kushina; she takes umbrage with them and they change their ways. That’s how it always goes. “Fighting,” he repeats blandly.

“Yeah.” Naruto makes a face, but gamely starts marching up the path. The trail. _Path_ is probably too generous. “Mom never told me why, but she was shouting into the phone a lot and I didn’t want to ask.”

Probably one of the reasons he’s still alive, Kakashi knows. Kushina's temper is…ferocious. He’s suddenly a hell of a lot less enthusiastic about meeting her brother, not that he was ever very enthusiastic about it. Especially after he heard the words _six-hour drive_ combined with _Naruto_.

Still. _Still_. This is a lot better than wandering around his apartment while he’s on leave, because it was either take time off or lose his vacation pay for the year. Kakashi was too cheap to consider that, even when the alternative was no work and Kushina deciding he was therefore the perfect chauffeur for her son. And it’s not as if he minds doing Minato and Kushina a favor and keeping an eye on their son while they’re on a tropical vacation. He’ll just…have to adjust a bit.

“Fantastic,” he mutters, quietly enough that Naruto won't hear it, and wonders if he maybe should have taken Gai up on that offer to join his rowing team. Except that would have been terrible, because Kakashi loves Gai dearly, but not enough to get out of bed before dawn and _exercise_.

He’s certainly not going to be making any early-morning trips to his car, because this walk absolutely counts as a _hike_ , and Kakashi objects. Strenuously.

At least the cabin looks slightly nicer than Kakashi’s original estimation gave it credit for; it’s at least two stories, with a widow’s walk and lots of wide windows, all hewn wood and natural timber. Enough space to get some distance from Naruto, hopefully, not that Kakashi will ever tell him as much, for fear of Kushina hearing about it. But six hours in a car with him is just about Kakashi’s limit.

As they clamber up the last few yards to the wide porch, Naruto bounces up on his toes, scanning the area while Kakashi tries to catch his breath. “Hey!” he calls loudly. “Anybody home? Hello?”

There's no answer, and Kakashi eyes the front door a little warily.

“You’re sure Kushina actually _talked_ to him?” he asks dubiously, because it would be just like Kushina to send them all the way out here without actually finalizing any sort of plan with her brother.

“ _I_ talked to him!” Naruto protests, which doesn’t exactly set Kakashi’s mind at ease. He dumps his bags by the door without hesitation, though, and grabs Kakashi’s wrist, tugging him around the deck towards the back of the house. “Come on, he might be up towards the trees. He likes to sketch up there.”

Kakashi tries to combine a male version of Kushina with an action as tame as _sketching_ and can't seem to conjure any images beyond things on fire. “Sketch,” he repeats, steadies his sunglasses as Naruto drags him up three wide steps, and ducks a hanging planter full of wildflowers.

“Of course,” Naruto says, like it’s a regular activity in _anyone_ related to Kushina. And then, at full volume, “HEY, YOU OLD GRUMP! STOP SULKING IN THE WOODS!”

Wincing, Kakashi presses a hand to his ear, and wonders if that together with the car ride is enough to ruin his hearing completely.

“You want to keep yelling, brat? I think there are still a couple of animals you didn’t manage to scare away,” a voice calls from above them, and Naruto laughs, grinning in anticipation as he spins. There's a figure emerging from the tree line, taller than Kushina but not by much, with the same bright hair but dark skin. He’s barefoot, the legs of his jeans rolled up, his tank top more holes than cloth.

 _He looks like an outdoorsy stripper_ , is Kakashi’s first thought, because those jeans might not be tight but they're _really_ worn in all the appropriate—inappropriate?—places, and he’s strangely graceful over the rough ground. Very attractive, too; he has Kushina's face, along with some obvious muscle that’s sheened with sweat and looks earned through use, rather than in a gym.

Maybe this stay isn't going to be quite as much of a trial as Kakashi thought.

“Uncle Kurama!” Naruto cheers, and as soon as the man has a foot on the deck he’s bounding forward, flinging himself at him. Kurama catches him with practiced ease, though he rolls his eyes and gives Naruto a pat on the head while the boy clings to him.

“Don’t call me uncle,” Kurama says gruffly. “It makes me feel fucking _old_ , okay?”

Naruto snickers. “You _are_ fucking old,” he points out, then laughs as he ducks away from Kurama’s swat.

“Not as old as your witch of a mother,” Kurama points out. “Where’s she dragging that boy toy of hers this time?”

“Tea Country,” Naruto reports. “She said that if I'm still alive in August she’ll bring you back a souvenir.”

Kurama rolls his eyes again. “What an incentive,” he says dryly, then steps past Naruto, eyes flicker over Kakashi for a moment before he offers a hand. “Kurama Uzumaki. You must be Kakashi. The brat’s told me all about you.”

Somehow, Kakashi doesn’t think that’s a good thing. He’s well aware of all the complaints Naruto can run through regarding his habits, and he restrains a wince. “All lies,” he says blithely, returning Kurama’s firm grip. “Don’t believe a word of it.”

That makes Kurama laugh, a little surprised, and his answering grin is lazy and sharp at the same time. “Probably better that way,” he agrees, then hooks an arm around Naruto's neck as the boy tries to slip past him and says, “Shukaku and Gaara just got in, brat. Why don’t you go unpack and then we can head over and see them?”

Naruto lights up. “Gaara’s here?” he demands, shrugs off Kurama’s arm, and bolts back towards the front. “Come on, come on, let’s go!”

“Should have left that news until after he’d settled in,” Kurama huffs, but he’s smiling a little, definitely fond. Tipping his head at Kakashi, he says, “Naruto actually warned me you were coming, so I made up one of the guest rooms.”

“Thanks,” Kakashi says, lets Kurama precede him to the stairs, and takes a look at his ass in those threadbare jeans as he walks. A definite perk, even if Kakashi does have to breathe country air for a few weeks. “Sorry to impose. Minato couldn’t find any good flights after the one today.”

Kurama scoffs, though whether at Kakashi’s apology or Minato's everything it’s hard to tell. “I don’t know how much of an eye you're supposed to be keeping on Naruto,” is all he says, “but he’s less of a headache when he’s got the run of the place, and my brother lives on the next property over. My sister’s got the one to below us, too, so there's not too much trouble he can get into around here.”

“Those are the words of a hopeless optimist,” Kakashi says dryly, because it’s _Naruto_. And then, because he’s entirely confused, “I didn’t realize Kushina had so many siblings.”

“She doesn’t.” Kurama casts him a raised brow. “We’re half-siblings, obviously. Different fathers, same mother. Shukaku and Chōmei have different mothers than me, but the same father. Our old man got around.”

That makes far more sense, and Kakashi nods in thanks at the explanation. “Naruto's clearly fond of Shukaku,” he observes.

Kurama laughs, and it’s rough and throaty and brings to mind lots of things Kakashi probably shouldn’t be thinking about Kushina's baby brother. “More of Gaara,” he corrects. “Shukaku’s nephew. He’s the one that broke Naruto's arm five years ago, but I guess they're over it now.”

Kakashi remembers that incident, and how transcendentally happy Naruto was in the aftermath. _The fist of friendship_ , he thinks a little wryly, which is Minato's name for it but entirely apt. Naruto's been using that since he was a toddler, and somehow it always seems to work. He opens his mouth to say as much, but before he can, the front door flies open in their faces, and Naruto leans out.

“Uncle Kurama,” he says. “There’s no power again.”

Kakashi blinks, long and slow, as a thread of apprehension traces down his spine.

“Again?” Kurama says, irritated. “Damn it, I just fixed that inverter. Okay, hang tight, I’ll go check it out.”

“Inverter?” Kakashi repeats, and hopes it comes out questioning rather than wary.

“For the solar panels,” Kurama says, waving a vague hand at the roof. “Naruto, you remember where the candles are?”

“ _Candles_?” Kakashi repeats, verging on actual horror now.

“Kurama’s whole house is on solar power!” Naruto says cheerfully, as if that’s the issue here. “It saves a ton of energy and he’s completely off the grid!”

Kakashi had not previously thought to consider the complete lack of power lines nearby, but now he can't think of anything else. If they don’t have power, nothing is going to work. He can usually stand it when it happens in the city, once or twice a year for a few hours, but if Kurama can't fix whatever he needs to, there's no alternative out here.

Even nice asses aren’t worth putting up with having to _rough it_.

“Should still have a few hours of light to fix whatever went wrong,” Kurama judges, squinting at the skyline. “Naruto, can you waiting until tomorrow to see Gaara? The garden’s going to need to be watered by hand.”

Naruto pouts, but steps out of the house. “Kakashi can help me,” he says, as if Kakashi isn't standing right there and entirely against being volunteered for anything. “We’ll get it done in no time!”

“Get what done,” Kakashi asks flatly.

Kurama gives him a look, just a little arch, with a faint undertone of pure wickedness that’s chillingly familiar. Kakashi’s seen Kushina level it at Minato _far_ too many times for comfort. “What?” he drawls. “Never worked in a garden before? How else do you think you're going to eat out here?”

“I assumed people bought their food, like most of the civilized world,” Kakashi informs him, and one second too late catches Naruto's frantic _abort, abort_ motions.

Oops.

This time, Kurama’s look is on the edge of fury, entirely insulted, and he rounds on Kakashi with a growl. “What, so the divide between consumers and producers can get even wider? Because it’s a _good_ thing that most of the food we eat is trucked in from halfway around the world? Because it’s fucking _fantastic_ that genetic diversity in crops is disappearing? Because promoting corporate machines over local farms is a healthy thing for the local economy? Get _fucked_ , asshole.” With one last blistering glare, he turns on his heel and stalks away, and a moment later a door slams loudly.

Kakashi blinks, long and slow, and then looks at Naruto for an explanation.

Wincing, Naruto rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Kurama gets touchy about some things,” he says, which is…impressively unhelpful. “Don’t worry about it, he’ll cool down soon! He’s just grumpy.”

Sadly, Kakashi has the type of personality that makes him want to push and see what _other_ reactions he can pull out of Kurama. It’s probably not a health impulse, because Kurama looked about three seconds away from taking a swing at him, but…

Well. Kurama’s pretty cute when he’s angry, Kakashi thinks.

Before he can say as much, a bucket almost hits him in the face, and it’s only Kakashi’s superior reflexes as a detective that let him catch it before it breaks his nose. Apparently all of Naruto's years playing basketball really did help his aim.

“Come on!” Naruto says cheerfully. “It shouldn’t take too long if we’re both working. And we can raid the garden, too—Kurama grows the best tomatoes in the world!”

Kakashi isn't exactly a stranger to physical labor, but this is supposed to be a _vacation_. “I _know_ we passed a grocery store in that last town,” he says, not quite an objection but close.

“Kurama doesn’t get to town much,” Naruto says cheerfully. “He hates it there. Pretty much everything here is aggressively recycled or made by hand.”

 _Aggressively recycled_ is not a term Kakashi has ever heard before, but looking at Kurama, Kakashi is willing to call it apt.

“Where exactly are we going?” he asks, following Naruto back towards the path down the hill.

Without an ounce of diminished enthusiasm, Naruto jabs a finger at a distant patch of green almost against the treeline. “That’s the garden over there. There's a creek, too!”

“Watch out for the trail along the edge of Mu’s old place,” Kurama says, still sounding cranky. When Kakashi glances up, he’s leaning over the edge of the balcony above them, and his expression is close to grim. “Some asshole corporate lawyer must have found a loophole in the no-logging contract, because they're clear-cutting.”

“ _What_?” Naruto turns, and his face is…distressed. Kakashi hadn’t thought he felt that strongly about logging. “But—!”

The hard slant of Kurama’s mouth softens, and for a moment he looks kinder, almost gentle. “I know, kit. But it’s private property. Nothing we can do but keep to our own land and make sure they don’t take one more tree than they're allowed.”

“That sucks,” Naruto complains, and huffs. “Kurama, that’s where Gaara and I _met_!”

Kurama tips one shoulder. “I like to think they’ll get what’s coming to them eventually,” he says, and his smile is full of teeth. “Mu once told me Gengetsu was sure that property was haunted. Who knows? Might be true.”

Kakashi hadn’t exactly taken Kurama for the superstitious type, and he eyes the man a little warily, but Kurama ignores him, turns away, and vanishes back into the house.

“Huh,” Naruto says, suddenly thoughtful. When Kakashi glances at him, though, he just grins, and it’s entirely Kushina's expression, full of mischief and a big pinch of trouble. “Come on, Kakashi, let’s go! The garden isn't going to water itself with the power off!”

Kakashi was probably better off in his apartment, rereading his Icha Icha books. Strangling a groan, he lets Naruto drag him down the path and into the deep grass. He’s probably going to get ticks. This is _awful_.

 

 

It’s possible Kakashi stays up a bit later than he should, enjoying being able to read his book with electric lights. He’s not that tired from the drive, even if hauling buckets of water from the creek was akin to torture, and the dinner Kurama made them was good enough that he ate too much of it. Sleep is weighing on him, but it’s enjoyable, being able to stay up late and know he can sleep in tomorrow.

Quiet footsteps in the hall pull his eyes from his book, and Kakashi raises one brow, because he recognizes the sound of Naruto trying to be sneaky. The steps keep going down the stairs, and there's a long moment of silence before Kakashi catches the very faint thump of the front door closing.

Well. That’s probably not good.

With a low groan, because Kushina will _gut_ him if her only son gets hurt wandering around the wilderness at night, Kakashi puts the bookmark back, closes his book, and rises to his feet. The night air coming in the window is a little too cool for comfort, so he grabs his jacket and heads downstairs after Naruto, trying to keep his steps soundless so that he doesn’t wake Kurama.

That proves to be futile, though. There's a light on in the kitchen, and Kurama is sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of tea in front of him. When Kakashi pauses at the edge of the doorway, a little confused, he glances up, one red brow lifting, and then tips his head at the empty chair across from him.

“Naruto snuck out to see Gaara,” he says, faintly amused. “He thinks he got out without being noticed. I wasn’t going to crush his dreams just yet.”

Kakashi hesitates, but steps into the kitchen, casting a look at Kurama. He’s still dressed for the day, and there's a streak of something dark on the tips of the hair that falls around his face. There's a trace of night air clinging to him as well, crisp and cool, that Kakashi only just catches as he passes behind him.

“Is it safe?” he asks, takes the teapot Kurama pushes across the table, and then the mug that Kurama pulls down from its rack.

“For Naruto?” Kurama snorts as he settles back into his chair, clearly amused, but his eyes are warm and his expression is fond. “Yeah, he knows what he’s doing, and he took a flashlight. Shukaku’s place is across the meadow. He’ll be fine.”

This is definitely not the first time Naruto's done this, judging by Kurama’s calm. “Gaara, hm?” Kakashi asks, and takes a sip of the tea. It’s spicy and sweet, with a pleasant aftertaste. Not objectionable, though Kakashi doesn’t normally drink things that don’t have caffeine. It’s a character flaw.

Kurama’s grin says he knows exactly where Kakashi is going with this. “Yeah, Gaara. You didn’t hear it from me, but Shukaku says Gaara’s going to be transferring into Naruto's school at the start of next year. Wants it to be a surprise.”

“Long distance relationships are always a trial,” Kakashi says blandly, because there's no way this is anything else. Sasuke will be heartbroken. Or pissy, which Kakashi assumes is about his equivalent.

It surprises a laugh out of Kurama, and he really is pretty, eyes warm in the low light, smile lazy and affectionate as he glances out the window. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Gaara’s a decent kid, even if Shukaku is a nutjob. Better than that Uchiha, at least.”

“Sasuke visited once?” Kakashi asks, interested, because that sounds like a personal grudge. He’s always open to possibilities for blackmail, especially since Sasuke has never mentioned it himself. Kakashi’s spent a lot of time around the brat, too, on account of Obito somehow being his favorite cousin, so he would _know_ about something like that.

“ _Just_ once,” Kurama says, and his smile gains teeth. “Let’s just say Madara is an asswipe who needs his head surgically extracted from the depths of his ass. He spent about ten minutes here when he came to drop the boys off and then fucked off back to Konoha with Sasuke. Apparently I'm a ‘bad influence’.”

Having met Madara, Kakashi isn't willing to say he disagrees. “In this case, the first impression is the most accurate one,” he says dryly. “Yours of him, I mean. I haven’t decided about his impression of you yet.”

Kurama chuckles, swallowing another mouthful of tea, and gives Kakashi a grin that’s both languid and inviting. “No secret there,” he says, holding Kakashi’s eyes deliberately. “I'm the worst influence you’ve ever met.”

Accurate, Kakashi thinks, watching him in return. But…not unappealing, somehow.

Not unappealing in the least.

 

 

Kurama in swim trunks is more than enough reason for a six-hour drive, Kakashi thinks, eyeing their host surreptitiously over the cover of his book. Naruto and the redheaded boy who met them by the swimming hole—Gaara, Kakashi is assuming, though Naruto didn’t give anyone time for introductions before he jumped the other teenager and toppled him into the water—are caught up in their strange mating dance of vehement protestations of friendship and a distinct lack of personal space, and they haven’t noticed, but if Kakashi gets too blatant about it _Kurama_ will. Given the looks Kurama was shooting him in the kitchen last night, Kakashi isn't entirely certain he’d object, but there's still a definite question mark hanging over the whole thing.

(Largely on Kakashi’s side, he’s willing to admit. The idea of possibly seducing Kushina's little brother comes along with the idea of Kushina inevitably _finding out_ , and whether she approves or not, Kakashi will suffer either way. That’s a lot more of an impact than he likes his flings to have on his life.)

( _An emotionally detached bastard_ , Obito calls him when he’s particularly annoyed. Kakashi has never denied it.)

Still, the sight of Kurama dripping wet, stretched out on the grass, is not a sight anyone with a libido would pass up, and Kakashi can't resist taking another look over the top of his book, eyes sliding across water-beaded skin, the damp fall of his bright hair, the warm glow the sun gives his skin. His shorts are soaked enough to cling, and his thighs are gorgeous, lean muscle in perfect proportions.

Kakashi _likes_ looking at him. Maybe a little too much.

“Naruto said you're a police officer,” Kurama says without opening his eyes, tilts his head back until the line of his throat is clear as he relaxes, and Kakashi wants to _bite_ it.

“Detective,” he corrects, and then, because he’s always been one to push boundaries, “I couldn’t resist carrying handcuffs for a living.”

One red eye slants open, and Kurama gives him a smirk that makes Kakashi suddenly and irrevocably certain that Kurama knows just how much he’s been looking at him the past hour. “Handcuffs? You carry them everywhere, or just on the job?”

“I like to be prepared for anything,” Kakashi says mildly, but this time he lifts his head, holds Kurama’s gaze deliberately.

Kurama snickers, rolls over to lie on his stomach, and Kakashi can't resist another look at the lean length of him, beautiful in the sunlight. “A regular Boy Scout, aren’t you?” he asks.

Kakashi makes a face. “I’ll leave camping and hiking to all the people who enjoy it,” he says, and means to add more, but before he can there's a massive, ringing crash and a horrific grinding of metal that echoes through the trees.

Instantly, he’s on his feet and heading for it, Kurama a step behind him. That sounded dangerous, and one of Kakashi’s best friends is a paramedic; he’s not about to keep from helping if something is wrong.

“That came from the logging camp,” Kurama says, pulling level with him. He gets a hand on Kakashi’s elbow, drags him left around a stand of trees marked with bright tape. Kakashi can already see smoke, dark and thick, and hear people shouting. There are too many voices to tell if someone really is injured, but there's definite panic.

“Anyone hurt?” Kakashi calls, as soon as the scene comes visible. Easy enough to tell what happened; one of the tree harvesters is on its side, crane arm bent at a ridiculous angle and hydraulic fluid leaking out onto the ground. There don’t seem to be any bodies, at least, not that Kakashi can see.

“It’s a miracle, but no,” one of the men says, turning to meet Kakashi and Kurama as they approach. He grimaces, pulling his bandana back a little, and rubs his scarred head. “That’s the fifth machine this week. This whole damn place is cursed or something.”

“Sabotage?” Kakashi asks, tries to keep the sharpness out of it.

The man shakes his head. “It’s possible, but I've been on site the last three nights and there weren’t any disturbances. Maybe the ground here is too rough.”

“There's a reason no one’s come to log it before,” Kurama says, a hell of a lot more mild than Kakashi would have expected of him. He shoots Kurama a look, but it’s ignored as Kurama studies the site. “Must be getting expensive, all of these accidents.”

Kakashi stares at him.

“Yeah,” the foreman agrees with a sigh. “Corporate money, but they might pull out soon, with everything.”

 _Aha_ , Kakashi thinks dryly, not taking his eyes off Kurama.

This time, Kurama actually meets his eyes, and that smile has just an edge off teeth behind it, like a dare. “Too bad,” he says, and doesn’t even try to sound like he means it.

Kakashi can't _believe_ him. Or, well, he _can_ , but he was thinking the relation to Kushina came out in his temper, not like _this_. “We should get back to the kids,” he says pointedly, curls his fingers tightly around Kurama’s bicep, and offers the foreman his most meaningless smile. “I'm glad no one got hurt.”

“Me too.” The man waves them off, already turning towards someone calling him, and Kakashi wastes no time hauling Kurama back through the trees towards the property line.

“You,” he says disbelievingly, “are _asking_ to get arrested.”

Kurama laughs, as if that’s anywhere close to the correct response. “Easy,” he says, and that’s a taunt as well. “Pretty rough for outside the bedroom, you know?”

“I have handcuffs,” Kakashi informs him. “In the trunk of my car.”

“You really are always prepared,” Kurama drawls, and when Kakashi pushes him up against a tree, he snickers, gets a hand on Kakashi’s bare chest and braces himself as he leans forward, eyes sharp. “You implying something, Kakashi?”

“That I should have those cuffs on you right now,” Kakashi tells him, but Kurama’s mouth is _right there_ , curled in a wicked smile, and the heat of his skin is shorting out all the important parts of Kakashi’s brain.

Kurama laughs. “I usually wait until at least the second date for bondage,” he says, and Kakashi makes a sound of wordless frustration, pushes forward and kisses him hard. He can feel Kurama’s fox-smile against his lips, but it just makes him kiss Kurama harder, take his mouth as Kurama pushes back into him, curling fingers into his hair.

“ _Why_ ,” Kakashi manages, because Kurama is grumpy but he’s warm and fond of his nephew and has a sense of humor. Those things don’t preclude criminal sabotage, but they make it a lot less predictable.

“These trees are two hundred years old at _least_ ,” Kurama growls, a flicker of offence in his face that Kakashi has to kiss off.

“You’d become a criminal for _trees_?” he demands.

“For the continued existence of this forest’s strong ecosystem,” Kurama retorts, and Kakashi wants to groan. Kurama laughs at him, which is entirely uncalled for, but his fingers stroke lightly through Kakashi’s hair and Kakashi can't quite muster up all the arguments he probably should.

“You were right,” he says, dropping his head onto Kurama’s shoulder. “You're the _worst_ influence.”

“At least I warned you in advance,” Kurama tells him without an ounce of sympathy. He pokes Kakashi in the ribs, then slides out from under him the moment there's room. “Come on, as long as you're done with your existential crisis.”

“ _Moral_ crisis,” Kakashi retorts, but he follows Kurama back towards the creek. “I'm a detective. I _know_ I told you that.”

Kurama waves a hand over his shoulder in a way that says he’s listening, but also entirely bored by the conversation. “Yeah, yeah. Either put up or shut up, just stop _whining_.”

“I'm sorry that _criminal activities_ offend me, personally, as a police officer,” Kakashi tells him, perfectly bland, as they emerge on the bank.

“So you keep saying,” Kurama says dryly, and then, “Shukaku, what are you doing here?”

Kakashi leans around him to see a man with shaggy, sandy-blond hair pulled back in a long tail seated on his abandoned blanket. He glances up from Kakashi’s book, carefully setting it aside, and rises to his feet. There are curling blue tattoos scattered across his skin, and he’s carrying a large sketchbook, but when he turns to Kurama his smile is sharp and challenging, enough to send a shiver down Kakashi’s spine.

“I was going to take Gaara and Naruto to see a movie,” he says. “And there's a meteor shower tonight that won't be visible from your hut that I thought they might want to see.”

“Can I stay with Gaara and Shukaku?” Naruto asks immediately, and turns his best Minato-style puppy eyes on Kurama without hesitation. “ _Please_ , Uncle Kurama?”

“Don’t call me uncle,” Kurama huffs, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling a little. “Sure, that’s fine. Shukaku, if you let one of them fall of the roof, you're going to have to be the one to tell my sister.”

“If I get Gaara hurt, I'm going to have to tell _my_ sister,” Shukaku retorts. “Karura is even more frightening than Kushina.”

“You only say that because you’ve never seen Kushina angry,” Kurama says dryly, but he watches without protest as Naruto and Gaara gather their things. Naruto grabs Gaara’s hand when they leave, waving cheerfully over his shoulder, and Kakashi raises one hand in a lazy return wave.

“Well,” he says lightly. “Now I have time to yell at you _properly_. You are aware you could have gotten people killed?”

“Please,” Kurama scoffs. “I'm a mechanical engineer. I knew exactly what I was doing.” A glance over at Kakashi, and that’s a dare too, touched with something that makes Kakashi swallow hard. “Going to try to arrest me now that we’ve got the house to ourselves until tomorrow?”

“I'm definitely going to try _something_ ,” Kakashi promises, and kisses him again.


End file.
